


All is Calm, All is Bright

by BroadwayBaggins



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBaggins/pseuds/BroadwayBaggins
Summary: Mary returns to Mansion House on Christmas Eve to find a surprise





	

It was a little before midnight on Christmas Eve, and a brisk wintery wind had picked up by the time Mary, Samuel, and Charlotte returned to Mansion House from the contraband camp. Chaplain Hopkins had accompanied them as well, but he had chosen to go along in the coach to make sure Emma Green returned home safely, and Mary was certain he would not leave the Green house without accepting a cup of something hot from the kitchen at Emma’s insistence. Henry’s departure meant that the remaining three had had to walk the rest of the way back to the hospital, but despite the bitter cold, they didn’t mind. Mary and Charlotte linked arms and Samuel led them in a rousing chorus of Christmas carols, their “Here we come a-wassailing” echoing through the empty streets. They were a merry band of three, full of cheer and goodwill after visiting the contrabands to administer medical care and deliver gifts to those in the camp—warm clothing for all and small toys and candy for the children. Seeing the joy on their faces had made the entire trip worthwhile.

Mary had invited Jed to accompany them to the contraband camp—many of the residents were sick and could use his expert attention, and either way she was sure they could use another set of hands to deliver all of the gifts and supplies. He had come to the camp with her in the past, sticking close by her side as they wandered the makeshift village of tents and crude lean-to’s, offering what aid they could to the brave souls who had made the treacherous journey into Union territory only to find themselves in a new world that was still unwilling to welcome them. Just a few days before, Mary had watched as Jed listened to the lungs of a seven-month-old baby girl, the youngest child of a runaway family from Georgia. Mary had watched as Jed murmured softly to her to keep her still, offering her his free hand to play with and squeeze as he tried to diagnose the reason for her persistent cough. It hardly seemed fair that one so young should escape the jaws of slavery only to be struck by what they feared to be diphtheria so soon after reaching their promised freedom, but Mary supposed nothing about this wretched war was fair. No one was left untouched, from the oldest grandfather to the littlest infant. Still, Jed was optimistic about the baby’s outlook, and watching him hold her had filled Mary with a sense of peace that she had not felt in the last few frantic weeks. In fact, seeing him rock that dear, sweet baby in his arms had been such a domestic scene that Mary had had to turn away in order to not allow her mind to get carried away from her. She had work to do, and could not dwell on such foolish, impossible daydreams.

But that afternoon when Mary had asked Jed if he wanted to come along, he had shook his head. “With all of you gone, we’ll be short-handed enough,” he had said apologetically, and then made a face. “Believe me, were it not for the fact that doing so would willingly be putting Byron Hale in charge of this hospital and every man inside it, I would be at your side in a heartbeat.”

“What about Captain McBurney?” Mary had countered, but Jed would still not be persuaded. She understood his reluctance to leave the boys when so many were ill. With the changing weather, the occurrence of battles had lessened somewhat (although with the occasional skirmish here and there) and the biggest threat to men was contagion. Diseases were spreading throughout both the hospital and the contraband camp, and they were all working harder than ever in order to provide the best care possible. Mary wouldn’t begrudge Jed what he considered to be his duty, but she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he would not be there. He had apologized again, adding that the residents of the camp could not be in more capable hands than Mary herself.

So she had tried to push Jed from her mind and focus on the task at hand as they examined wounds and checked pulses and distributed gifts. The former slaves were overjoyed at their bounty and hopeful for the promise of a new and better year to come, but Mary couldn’t help but wish there were still more she could do for them.

The lamps had burned low when they returned to Mansion House, but there was still a fire burning merrily in the grate in the main parlor. Most of the men were asleep, and the majority of the hospital staff seemed to have retired as well, although Mary wondered how late the Christmas revels had gone in her absence. Tomorrow, there would be as good of a feast as she could muster, and all of the men, Union or Confederate, would have some sort of gift to open come Christmas morning. Mary placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the wards, smiling as she thought of the chaos she had seen upon first setting foot in Mansion House, compared to the tranquility she now observed.

Samuel and Charlotte made to go up the stairs to their respective rooms, but Mary did not follow.

“Aren’t you coming up?” Charlotte asked softly.

“In a moment. I have a few of my patients I want to check in on, and I want to make sure everything is set for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

“You’ll run yourself ragged, Nurse Mary,” Samuel cautioned, but he was smiling.

“It will be worth it to give our boys a proper Christmas. Besides, the Green family has been so generous that I would hate to see the dinner go to waste.” Mary was still shocked at the amount of food and supplies the Greens had been able to provide—everything from sugar and molasses for a makeshift Christmas pudding to a whole turkey she suspected they had hired someone to hunt for them—and she was certain that Emma’s influence had something to do with her family’s sudden generosity towards the Union hospital that had shaken their lives to the core. Mary smiled at the thought of sweet Emma cajoling her parents into making the donation. She had come a long way from the pampered Confederate belle she had been on the first day Mary met her, that was for sure.

“All right, have it your way,” Charlotte said at last. “But don’t stay up too late. We’ll need you again come morning.”

“Good night, Charlotte. Good night, Samuel.”

“Good night, Nurse Mary.”

She watched them retreat up the stairs before turning to her own duties, creeping silently through the wards like a watchful mother cat checking up on her kittens. She paused to wipe the brow of Corporal Shepherd as he murmured in his sleep, checked a dressing on a boy from Maine, and carefully marked Private Jennings’ place in his book before placing it on the floor beside him.

She had not expected anyone else to be awake at this hour—the staff at Mansion House rose early and retired late, and as such needed all the sleep they could manage—but as she turned a corner she caught sight of a familiar figure standing before the fire. He turned when he heard the gentle rustle of her skirt, and Mary smiled at the sight of Jed’s face illuminated by the fire.

“I told you I’d wait up for you.”

“I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe you. We’re back much later than I imagined.”

“I take it that it was a successful outing, then?”

Mary nodded. “Yes, I would say it was. We were able to give them some semblance of a proper Christmas, at least.” He was standing in front of her now, and their hands brushed as they both went to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear at the same time. She blushed profusely and went to move away, but the look of dismay that crossed his face stopped her.

“Christ, Mary, you’re chilled to the bone,” he whispered. Immediately he took her hand in both of his, trying to rub some warmth back into her frigid body. “Where the devil is your shawl? Your gloves?” he asked, eyeing her critically.

“Charlotte and I gave ours away,” she said simply. “The donations were very helpful, but we found there was not quite enough, and they needed it more than we did. We have a warm roof over our heads for the night, and they do not.” Jed gave her a look of exasperation, and she shrugged. “Perhaps Father Christmas will bring me another in the morning.”

“Mary…”

She fixed him with a stern look, even as her fingers curled around his to keep his hands right where they were. She was not sorry that she had given away her things, but she was quite warm, and the warmth of Jed’s hands against hers was…inviting, to say the least.

“I will not apologize for helping someone in need, Jed.”

“No, I would never ask you to,” he admitted, looking up at her with a tender smile. “Although sometimes I do wish you would put yourself before others just once in a while, for your own sake. We cannot have you catching cold, or where would Mansion House be?”

“I’m sure I would have the finest care possible,” Mary couldn’t help saying.

“Indeed you would, because I would not leave your side for a minute.” His honesty took Mary aback for a moment, and he smiled. “At least come sit by the fire.”

She made a face, but let him lead her over to the hearth. There were no chairs nearby, so they simply sank onto the floor, letting the fire’s warmth wash over them. “How is our chaplain doing?” Mary asked, speaking not of Hopkins but of one of their patients, a reverend from Massachusetts who they both had taken a liking to. He was a charming, sweet gentleman of middle age who delighted in talking to Mary about her childhood in Concord, where his wife and four daughters still lived. He spoke of them often, his “little women”, and Mary felt as if she knew them already. He had not been wounded, but rather struck with an illness at the front, and although his spirits remained high Mary was continually worried about his condition. Mary kept wondering whether or not his wife should be sent for, but Jed had convinced her to hold off for now.

“He seems to have taken a turn for the better,” Jed replied. “Let’s hope it lasts. With any luck, he might even be able to return to his family by the New Year.” Mary smiled at the pretty thought. There were far too many men spending the holidays away from their families this year. Even if the sick chaplain could not make it for Christmas, it was a comfort to think he might be able to enjoy some small portion of this time with the family he so clearly missed.

“And how was the camp?” Jed asked carefully, still rubbing Mary’s hands for warmth. She was already starting to feel better, but she did not want to mention that to him yet, in case it meant he might leave her side.

“Baby Hattie is still coughing, but her color is much better and the fever has stayed away. Solomon’s leg is healing cleanly, although next time you come along you may want to have another look—it was hard with so little light, but the swelling has gone down and there’s no sign of further infection. The twins’ condition seems to be improving, and Patsy’s pregnancy is progressing along nicely—her time should be coming shortly, so Charlotte and I need to prepare for that, although I’m sure the other women will be more than prepared to assist her when the baby comes. Emma checked in on the Walker family, the littlest one is still not improving, but she did seem to perk up when Emma gave her a piece of peppermint candy.” Mary smiled faintly. “And Tess got a letter from her brother in Philadelphia, saying he’s gotten a job and should be able to save enough money for a room in a boardinghouse for her and her family.”

“Excellent,” Jed responded, and he truly did sound happy at the news. He, too, had come a long way from the man who had condescended to her in saying that her views on slavery were naïve and misguided. “And how did they like their gifts?”

Mary smiled, remembering Emma in her fur muffler surrounded by children, passing lemon drops and peppermint sticks into eager hands; Henry Hopkins leading a rousing chorus of “O Come, All Ye Faithful;” the look on the faces of the contraband as she and Charlotte and Samuel reached into burlap sacks and pulled out gifts of warm gloves and woolen scarves and clean petticoats and stocking caps. “It was wonderful. I wish you could have seen it. They were all very happy, but I still wish we could have done more.” Mary sighed. “Perhaps by next Christmas, the war will be over.”

“I hope to God that it will be, but as you recall, that is what they said about this Christmas,” Jed reminded her gently.

Mary nodded, squeezing Jed’s hand. The grandfather clock began to chime midnight, and she looked up. From the second floor, they could hear the faint sound of Sister Isabella as she began to sing “Silent Night.”

“It’s Christmas,” Mary whispered.

“Indeed it is.”

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the crackling of the fire and the breathing of the men in their beds. Suddenly Mary’s head snapped up, and she rose to her feet so quickly that Jed almost cried out. “Private Warren! I promised to check in on him! Where is he, Jed? How—“

Jed shook his head, and Mary raised her hand to her mouth in horror. “He’s not…”

“He’s not here. His sister arrived by coach just after you and the others left. He was very sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but I wrote to his family a week ago advising them to come while he’s still well enough to travel. He’s going to be home for Christmas.” He smiled. “I assumed hearing that would make you happy.”

Mary sighed with relief, blinking back tears. “Some good news at last, Jed.”

They stayed there for a few moments longer, her with her cheeks still flushed from cold and perhaps more, him in his shirt and waistcoat with his jacket and cravat long gone. When she finally turned to go back up the stairs, he followed her, glancing pointedly up to a large sprig of greenery hanging in the doorway that had decidedly not been there only a few hours before.

“Mistletoe?” Mary asked with a chuckle. “Who in the world put this here?”

“It may have either been Miss Hastings or Miss Green,” Jed said slyly. “I will admit I didn’t pay whoever it was that much attention.”

“But you didn’t tell them to take it down, either.”

“I had assumed McBurney would take it upon himself to dispose of it, but he appeared to experience a rare bout of Christmas cheer this evening. I even saw him partake in some cider.”

“So because he did not find the mistletoe a nuisance, you decided to leave it up.”

“It does add a festive touch to the room, I admit.”

“Jed…”

“I know what you’re thinking, Mary—did I hang this mistletoe myself? Well, you know I would never willingly admit to such a thing…”

“Jed…we can’t…”

“I received a telegram from Eliza today.”

Mary’s brow furrowed in confusion, and her heart threatened to crack in two. Why was he doing this now? Why was he torturing her this way, flirting with her one moment, then bringing up his estranged wife? Why…

“We have been corresponding these last few months—I didn’t want to mention anything before things were settled, but the telegram today…it’s the news I’ve been waiting for. My marriage is over.”

“What?”

“Eliza petitioned me for divorce before Thanksgiving. With the post being the way it was, it took a while longer, but she had reasonable cause for dissolution of our marriage, and I’m given to understand things work a bit differently in California. It was much easier and more painless than it would have been here, all things considered.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up until I was sure.”

“Get your hopes up, Jedediah?”

He smiled. “I’m finally free, Mary. I am my own man once again, free to follow my heart. And my heart wants you, Mary Phinney…if you’ll have me.”

Her only answer—the only answer she could possibly give—was the touch of her lips against his. She felt his surprise in the slight tension of his lips, but then his hands came to encircle her waist gently, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her in return. This was the first kiss they always should have had, rather than the one he had taken from her while in the throes of the morphine. This was a second chance for both of them—a second chance that began on Christmas Day.

“Merry Christmas, Jedediah Foster.”

“Merry Christmas, my Mary Phinney.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my Mercy Street Secret Santa gift to the wonderful klarinette49! There is a wee reference to Little Women with the chaplain Mary and Jed discuss, but it's not an outright crossover because the timelines just don't match up. I used my imagination combined with the few hints we've been given about season 2 for the description of the men and women of the contraband camp. Title comes from "Silent Night."


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